DR. DEL IS ON CALL

As a W.W.W.M.D., my medical credentials aren’t much different than say, Prince’s old keyboard player, Dr. Fink, or the greatest Octagonecologyst of our time — otherwise known as Dr. Octagon.

Doctors like us didn’t waste time in “medical school” practicing bad handwriting and ignoring the health benefits of a breath mint (is it just my doctor who needs the hint?). No. Me, Fink, Octagon and the late great Dr. Mickey Horton from Days of Our Lives all learned to just go with the flow.

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Dr. Bob of The Muppet Show’s Veterinarian’s Hospital wasn’t really a doctor, but he played one on TV.

That will be the spirit of the Dr. Del column, which is here to give advice and answers to questions you just can’t get or ask at Kaiser. Sure, by following my advice you might end up at Kaiser. But hey, when it comes to The Poop, you’ve just got to go with the flow.

This week’s topic: Sleep Deprivation.

Since becoming a father (and doctor) seven months ago, the most common question I get asked is: “So, getting any sleep lately?” The question is usually delivered with a smile and a slap on the back.

After breaking (and then of course treating) their arms, I explain that sleep deprivation is no laughing matter. In many cultures it’s even considered as a form of torture. But in our politically correct society, these torturing toddlers who are “hungry,” or who “just want to be hugged” at 3 in the morning — well, they get a free ride.

Unfortunately, Dr. Del can’t stop these cute and cuddly criminals from stealing your sleep. But I can offer some advice:

Revenge

Many years from now, long after my seven-month old son has graduated from college and is settled into his own home, I’m going to phone him.

At 2:49 a.m.

Every night.

For a week.

Each time he picks up I’ll identify myself and then slowly slip into a light sob about how sad I feel about something or other. He’ll try to tell me “everything is going to be just fine,” that “he’s there for me,” and “blah, blah, blah.” I’ll let him think his voice is making me feel better — for 30 seconds. Then I’ll let loose into 15 minutes of weeping and wailing. In case I get tired, I’ve saved a recording of him crying me a river from last Tuesday that I can use. Once I can tell he’s at his limit, I’ll thank him for being there for me and then hang up.

At around 4:45 a.m, when he’s deep into another dream, his phone will ring again. Only this time I won’t be sad.

I’ll just be hungry.

Have questions of need advice from Dr. Del? E-mail him at dvigil@sfchronicle.com